"LUNAR:  Tales From Crystal Tokyo"

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LUNAR: Tales From Crystal Tokyo

By Daryll Pung

Episode 3-04: Diplomats and Raw Deals

Rated: R

 

 

 

Crystal Palace in Crystal Tokyo, Planet Luna, 3 June 2740

Primary Briefing Room

            As Sailor Cygni and Sorcerer Derrelli entered the chamber, both noted that Sailor Ryujin, Wizard Duke, and Wizard Orien were already present.  Pulling out the plush mahogany and velvet chairs, the two seated themselves near their shipmates.

            “So,” Orien began.  “Does anyone have a clue as to what this little ‘special’ briefing is about?”

            “They’re finally chasing down Pyro and getting him to pay for the numerous fire-based damages he’s inflicted,” quipped Sailor Ryujin.

            Duke laughed.  “That’s an awfully hefty sum, methinks.”

            “Wow,” Derrelli replied sardonically, raising an eyebrow at the trio, tone of voice not quite matching his grinning face.  “Jealous, are we?”

            “Seriously, though,” Orien chuckled, wiping laugh-tears from his eyes.

            “Patience is a virtue,” chimed in GIA, abruptly materializing behind Duke.  “And it likely has to do with the recent events.”

            “As if we needed a computer to tell us that,” remarked Sailor Cygni dryly.  “We’ll find out momentarily.  Duke, Orien… status of the Bahumat?  We haven’t contacted the shipyard yet.”

            Orien responded first.  “Repairs are complete aside from some minor cosmetic damage... and that was two hours ago; I imagine Derrelli’s well-trained engineers are probably all catching some shut-eye now that the Bahumat is fully operational.”

            “Well deserved, I might add,” chimed in Duke.

            Sailor Ryujin nodded.  “Everyone else except the engineers has already enjoyed mandatory downtime, so it’s only fair they get some.”  None of the five noticed the briefing room doors hissing open.

            “Unfortunately,” broke in another voice as the doors to the briefing room hissed shut, “it is going to be cut short.”

            The quintet of Bahumat officers snapped to their feet upon seeing Her Highness, Neo-Queen Serenity the First, accompanied by Sailors Neptune and Venus, and four other individuals dressed in attire of the diplomatic corps.

            Serenity waved her hand.  “Please relax,” she said smoothly, moving to the head of the table.  The four diplomats seated themselves across the table from the Bahumat officers; the two Planetaries sat on either side of Serenity.  The Bahumat officers exchanged looks, and lowered back into their seats.

            “I must congratulate you on your professional and exquisitely skilled engineering department, Sailor Cygni; your crew is certainly among the best, if not the best,” Serenity said.

            Sailor Cygni bowed her head in gratitude.  “Thank you, Majesty,” she replied.

            “Which is why they are only getting twelve hours of shore leave instead of the allotment everyone else has had,” Sailor Neptune said, a wry smile on her face.

            “Indeed,” agreed Serenity.  “The five of you are surely wondering what is going on, as are our four experts from the Diplomatic Corps.  The long and short of it is that you will all be participating in a special mission.”

            “It’s right up your alley,” Sailor Venus smiled.

            Serenity and Sailor Neptune shared a look of disbelief… after all these centuries, Sailor Venus still only rarely got old maxims correct, and it was a surprise when she did.  Sailor Venus noted the look they shared, and her smile widened slightly.

            Derrelli leaned forward with a frown.  “Majesty, you’re sending the Bahumat on a diplomatic mission?  Aren’t there other ships better suited for that task?”  Just what we all wanted, he thought sarcastically.  A boring diplomatic escort mission.

            “Not for this mission… and none that are fully repaired.  Oh, I would not worry too much, Sorcerer Derrelli.  This mission is just a bit out of the ordinary.  Introductions, Mina?” Serenity said.

            “Sure thing,” Sailor Venus nodded, looking at the Bahumat officers.  “Seated from left to right in front of you are Specialist T’mal of Vulcan, an expert on the Dark Kingdom, Specialist Harrison Shuley, resident expert on the HDE, and an up-and-coming half-Cygnian Specialist, Moira Benson, who is the closest thing to a Zerm expert we have.  Leading the team is Chief Diplomat Juanita Flores.”  Sailor Venus paused as the four diplomats nodded.  She gazed at them next.  “From the SLS Bahumat, left to right, we have primary Helm Officer Wizard Duke, primary Tactical Officer Wizard Orien, First Officer Sailor Ryujin, Chief Engineer Sorcerer Derrelli, and Captain Sailor Cygni.”

            “And the hologram is Duke’s friend GIA,” added Derrelli with a smirk.

            “Now, I am certain you wish to know the details,” Serenity continued.  “Michelle?”

            “Okay,” Sailor Neptune began.  “Over the past thirty-six hours, we have received important communications from the Holy Droylian Empire, the Zerm Alliance, and the Dark Kingdom.”  She paused to let that fact sink in; everyone sat up even straighter upon hearing that.  “Yes, they’re all actually talking to us; and we’ve talked back to them.  The reason…?  A desire for an unheard of four-way summit, in hopes of combining forces to defeat the invaders; we’ve all suffered losses, in most cases severe ones.”

            “By the Crystal,” gasped Sailor Cygni.

            “Yes,” Sailor Neptune agreed.  “This is an historic opportunity, as I’m sure our Specialists can relate.”

            “I think, Lady Neptune, that we’re all a little too stunned to really grasp this yet,” Harry Shuley said, his green eyes focused on the Oceanic Planetary.  He ran a hand through his blonde hair.

            “It is highly unexpected, if not logical,” agreed T’mal.  He had typical Vulcan coloration:  dark hair and eyes, light greenish pallor to his tan skin.

            “There’s an understatement,” snorted red-haired and violet-eyed Moira Benson.  “Especially for the Zerm.”  Her light complexion darkened with her derision.

            “We shall discuss this in detail later,” Juanita Flores, an older woman, primly interrupted.  Her black hair was shot with silver; her brown eyes fixed momentarily on each of her team members.  She regarded Sailor Neptune steadily.  “Please continue, Lady Neptune.”

            “Well.  In one week’s time, each nation will be sending a single vessel, staffed with their diplomats, into the Alpha Zone, with our permission.  The precise coordinates are probably familiar to you, Sailor Cygni,” Sailor Neptune stated, tapping a panel built into the expensive wooden table.  Behind her, as the room darkened slightly, the screen blinked on, showing a galactic map, spiraling in on the location.

            Derrelli grimaced.  “Yeah, it’s familiar,” he sighed, seeing Juanita’s eyes narrowing.

            “The location of the Battle of the Alpha Zone,” Sailor Cygni said quietly.  “And where the gate was.”

            “Yes,” affirmed Sailor Neptune.  “Now, your orders are to rendezvous with those ships on 10 June, and escort them to the Polaris system, which will serve as the site for the summit, since it is easily securable.  Four destroyers will be enroute there to sanitize the area- and make sure it stays that way- and provide backup security for the summit; but you are the first line, and the participant’s safety is your top priority.  Extend every courtesy, but don’t let down your guard.”

            The five Bahumat officers shared a glance.  “Well,” spoke up Sailor Ryujin.  “This is gonna be interesting.”

            “You leave at 1300 hours tomorrow,” Sailor Venus put in.

            “We’re going to have to run at high speed to make the rendezvous, then,” Derrelli mused, running the figures through his head.  “You up to it, flyboy?”

            “Sure.  Are your engines up to it, Pyro?” retorted Duke.

            “Always,” he confirmed.

            Sailor Neptune produced a microcomputer, and slid it across the table to Sailor Cygni.  “Here are the specifics.”

            “This briefing is to be considered of the highest classification,” Serenity said quietly.  “Make your preparations.  Good luck.”  She stood; as she did so, so did everyone else.

            The two Planetaries and her Highness quickly departed; as the doors hissed shut, all nine of the occupants sat down again.  “Nirvana,” Sailor Cygni began.  “Please get me the duty comm officer on the Bahumat.”

            “One moment, please, Sailor Cygni,” Nirvana replied.

            “We’ll have to expedite the resupply,” Sailor Ryujin said.

            “Yeah,” Sailor Cygni nodded.

            “You’re on, Sailor Cygni,” Nirvana spoke.

            “Captain?” came a female’s voice.

            “That’s me,” Sailor Cygni replied.  “Effective immediately, recall all personnel to the ship.  All engineers are required to spend the next ten hours relaxing, sleeping preferably.  Have ops assign additional personnel to the resupply; it has to be done no later than eleven hundred hours.  At that time the engineers will spin up the core for departure.  We have a mission; more will be disclosed later.  Oh, yes… prepare four guest quarters for visitors.”

            “Got it, ma’am.  Was there anything else?”

            “Not at this time.  Sailor Cygni out.”  She turned.  “Any thoughts?  Or do we all hunker down and prep for departure?”

            “I have one,” Derrelli said.  “But I need to drag Orien with me to see Sailor Mercury to deal with it.  With your permission, love?”

            “Get on it,” Sailor Cygni waved her hand; the two stood and rapidly exited to chamber.  Sailor Cygni turned to Juanita.  “Please be at dock fifteen in the CrystallDesign dockyard by ten hundred hours.”

            “We shall,” Juanita replied; she stood, the other diplomats standing with her.  “I think we may have to discuss a few things ourselves, at that time,” she added pompously.  The foursome turned and left.

            “Someone needs to remove the pole from her ass,” muttered Duke as the doors hissed shut.  GIA giggled.

            “No shit,” snorted Sailor Ryujin.  She regarded Sailor Cygni.  “I’m already having a blast.  Can it get any worse?”

            “Never say that,” sighed Sailor Cygni.  “It always does.”

            “Especially with Pyro aboard,” GIA added; her reply was a set of three grins as they stood and turned to leave.

 

Nearing the Galactic Edge, 4 June 2740

The SLS Orion

            “What are they doing here?” whispered Lieutenant Sean O’Connor, newly promoted and reassigned to the Orion.

            Sailor Vulcan said nothing, gazing at screen 1, at the Nightmare, slowing to a stop near the edge of populated space after a long high-speed run.

            “Captain?” asked Ensign Shuria Hyrnan, the Isbanni comm officer.  “They’re broadcasting a generic hail, omni-directional in nature… translating now.”

            Sailor Vulcan turned to her, waiting patiently.  Inside of thirty seconds, Shuira looked up.

            “They’re requesting negotiations,” she said.  “And it seems that the message target is our mysterious attackers.”

            Sailor Vulcan nodded.  “Priority one message to HQ with everything we have; include that message and your translation.”

            “Aye, ma’am,” Shuria nodded, and bent to the task.

 

CrystallDesign Dockyard, in Lunar orbit, Sol system, 4 June 2740

The SLS Bahumat

            “Captain on the bridge!” called out Wizard Orien as Sailor Cygni stepped out of the lift; the four diplomats followed.  All of the Bahumat’s senior crew, except for Derrelli, who was supervising the core power up, was on the bridge, accomplishing last minute tasks.  Sailor Ryujin was assisting Orien in a last minute targeting scanner readjustment; Wizard Duke was running diagnostics on the port thrusters, and other crewmembers were equally busy.

            “Status?” Sailor Cygni demanded.

            “Almost ready,” Sailor Ryujin replied, glancing up.  “We still haven’t heard the latest from engineering, but I estimate within a half hour we’ll be ready to rock.”

            “Excellent,” Sailor Cygni said.

            “Engineering to bridge,” came a call.

            “Go ahead,” Sailor Cygni said.

            “Core is up and running; all diagnostics on all major systems complete, with no problems.  All go for departure from our end,” Derrelli reported.

            “Good,” Sailor Cygni replied.  “Bridge out.”  She glanced at Sailor Ryujin.  “Lemme know when we’re ready to leave.”

            As Sailor Ryujin nodded, Juanita spoke up.  “Captain, a moment of your time?”

            “Certainly,” Sailor Cygni answered.  “Let’s get an escort for our other guests, to show them their quarters,” she glanced at Sailor Ryujin, who nodded again and pointed at a crewman.  Sailor Cygni returned her gaze to Juanita.  “This way,” she continued, and led her into the Captain’s ready room.

            As the doors hissed shut behind them, and the other three diplomats left the bridge, Sailor Ryujin rolled her eyes.  “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” she muttered.  “This is going to be one trying mission.”

 

            Sailor Cygni took her customary spot in her chair, reclining slightly.  She waved her hand to the other seats.  “Please, make yourself comfortable,” she said, a fake smile plastered on her face.  “Would you like anything?”

            “No, thank you,” Juanita responded as she primly lowered herself into one of the chairs.

            “Suit yourself, “ Sailor Cygni shrugged, turning to the dispensers.  “Neo, a grape juice, please.”  The requested beverage shimmered into being, and Sailor Cygni took a sip as she settled back.   “So, what did you wish to talk about?”

            “This mission,” Juanita stated quietly.  “I have concerns about your capability to accomplish something this delicate.”

            Sailor Cygni paused mid-sip; she set the glass on the tabletop and fixed a harsh stare on Juanita.  “Excuse me?  Where do you get off, strolling onto my ship and telling me we can’t do the mission?  Who the hell do you think you are?”

            “I am the leading diplomat in the Golden Millennium,” replied Juanita haughtily.  “And your warmongering crew is, I’m sure, quite efficient at combat; but this is not a combat mission.”

            “’Warmongering’?” Sailor Cygni repeated.

            “You did, did you not, unleash a catastrophic computer virus, upon activation which likely killed hundreds of thousands of Dark Kingdom citizens?” pointed out Juanita.

            “Yes, yes, we did,” Sailor Cygni said quietly.  “However, we have no reliable reports of the deaths of any civilians, so we must rely on facts.  One:  all the facilities destroyed ultimately produce weapons that cause death and destruction upon our own citizens.  Two:  the Dark Kingdom has long been our most lethal enemy.  Three:  we were two ships, all alone, trapped in a place that would likely have resulted in our being destroyed had we stayed much longer.  And furthermore, just how many lives did we save when we intervened in that battle?  How many of our own civilians, had the fleet failed because we didn’t show up when we did, would have died when those ships launched raids into our space?  No, while we’ve all had sleepless nights regarding that whole escapade, we don’t regret our actions; it all worked out for the better, and no diplomat is going to waltz in here and question our capabilities.”

            “I respect those facts and opinions,” Juanita pointed out, her expression blank.

            Mother of Serenity, she’s good at this, thought Sailor Cygni idly.

            “However,” and her expression turned harsh, “the fact remains that this is a mission of peace; and this ship and crew are ill-suited for that purpose.”

            Sailor Cygni sighed.  “So now you’re questioning Her Highness’ judgment?”

            Juanita froze.  “Excuse me?”

            “I suppose it never occurred to you why she chose this ship,” Sailor Cygni continued.  “You’re too centered on your own role; too obsessed with how important you are.  Some degree of that, in this case, is certainly true, but there are more reasons than you are accepting for our presence.”

            “I also accept that opinion,” Juanita replied.  “But I am still correct; talking can solve anything, something this ship and crew do not grasp.”

            Sailor Cygni paused for a moment.  “I wish that were so, that talking can solve anything.  If that were the case, though, how come we haven’t heard through diplomatic channels until now regarding the DK?  Because they’re finally hurt enough, finally in dire straits enough, to need help… unless, of course, this is just another trap by them.  I can’t see the point in that, but…” she shrugged.  “And that is why we are here.  I hope this mission comes off smoothly and flawlessly; but somehow, I know it won’t.”

            “You are certainly entitled to think that if you wish,” Juanita replied smoothly.  “My prior statements stand.  Captain, I will not allow this mission to be endangered by you and your crew; keep in mind, as far as diplomatic protocol goes, I have command unless some unforeseen emergency arises.”

            “I’m aware of regulations regarding diplomatic missions,” Sailor Cygni managed to say neutrally; this arrogant diplomat sure knew how to push her buttons!  “Fine.  I know your opinions, and that will just have to do-“ Sailor Cygni continued, to break off as a beep sounded by the door.   “Enter!”  Thank Serenity! she added mentally.

            The doors hissed open to reveal Sailor Ryujin.  “We’re ready to roll, Captain.”

            Sailor Cygni stood.  “Excellent.  Would you show Juanita here her quarters?”  She turned to Juanita.  “You and your team may access the ship, with the exception of restricted areas, freely; the bridge is the only restricted area you may enter at will.  If you’ll excuse me.”  Sailor Cygni turned and marched onto the bridge; Sailor Ryujin waved her hand.

            “This way,” she said neutrally to Juanita.

 

            Ten minutes later, Sailor Ryujin returned to the bridge; as the lift doors closed behind her she let out a deep mock sigh; she made a show of parading to her chair and collapsing in it.

            “Did she give you an earful, too?” Sailor Cygni asked wearily, her head propped on her left hand.

            “No, actually she was dead silent, barely acknowledging my attempts at polite conversation,” Sailor Ryujin responded, a slightly puzzled look on her face.

            “Well, that certainly fits the pattern,” Sailor Cygni muttered.  She stood, walking slowly around the bridge.  “You see, she looks down on all of us because we fight.  She doesn’t think we can accomplish this mission.”

            What!?” demanded Sailor Ryujin, sitting rigidly upright in her chair.

            “And she arrogantly reminded me that she’s in charge during diplomatic procedures,” Sailor Cygni continued, pausing by the tactical console.  “And that everything can be talked through.”  Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

            “What dream world is she living in?” snarled Sailor Ryujin.

            “Yeah, as if the Bahumat is a tool for negotiations; this is a warship, for cryin’ out loud,” Sailor Cygni shook her head; she paused and fixed Sailor Ryujin with a stare.  “I have a bad feeling about this one.”

            “Me too,” Sailor Ryujin replied.  “And sitting here, waiting around, isn’t making it any easier.”

            “Yeah,” Sailor Cygni nodded; she turned towards the comm officer.  “Contact the dockmaster; request clearance for departure.”

            The bridge doors hissed open; the three junior diplomats stepped onto the bridge.

            “Clearance granted, Captain,” comm reported.

            “Clear all moorings; Duke, all ahead full thrusters until we’re clear; then proceed ahead one third sublight to L-point,” Sailor Cygni ordered; she strolled back down to her chair.  “Once at L-point, proceed all ahead full to designated coordinates with the RIFT drive.”

            “Aye, Captain,” Duke acknowledged; he pressed his panel.

            The mighty battleship slipped out of the holding bay it had been resting in.  A multitude of large hoses and umbilical connects retracted completely as the behemoth left.  The starship Bahumat slowly made its way past numerous other dockyards; some were filled with half-constructed ships; some were filled with heavily damaged ships; all had the bright blinking of gamma welding beams hard at work on them, blinking in and out like fireflies.  The dockyard receded behind them as they passed Starbase One, and the outer defenses.  Open space beckoned.

            As the battlewagon neared Mars, Neo spoke up.  “All hands prepare for RIFT transit!”

            White energy burst from the engine grids; it encompassed the ship, which stretched briefly into infinity before disappearing into a white flash and spiral. 

            The Bahumat was on its way.

 

Nearing the Galactic Edge, 5 June 2740

The SLS Orion

            “Captain!” called tactical.

            Sailor Vulcan turned.  “What do you have?”

            Tactical looked up.  “We have incoming, ma’am!”

            Sailor Vulcan pointed back at the screen.  “Screen one!” she ordered.

            The screen blinked on to reveal a pair of the enemy super-ships approaching the motionless Nightmare.  The pirate ship’s sleek, lethal shape was utterly dwarfed by the massive ships approaching it; but it remained motionless.

            “They’ve opened communications,” Shuira reported.  “I’m monitoring…”

            Sailor Vulcan moved next to the comm console.  “Is there anything interesting?”

            Shuira nodded slowly.  “They’re opening formalities at the moment… and apparently the unknowns are demanding to know why the Nightmare is audaciously communicating with them.  The Nightmare says they have the key for the unknowns to dominate this galaxy… and will give it to them so long as they’re left alone.  The unknowns replied…  they are willing to talk.  The Nightmare suggests a face-to-face meet.  The unknowns have agreed; and…”

            “Captain!” called tactical.  “Screen two!”

            The lead of the two invaders moved forward; a bay opened slowly on its underside, and tractor beams latched onto the Nightmare; the pirate vessel was rapidly drawn inside the massive ship.  As the bay closed, the invader began moving; so did the second ship, and they split off.

            “Damn!” cursed tactical.  “They’re separating!  Which one do we follow?”

            “The vessel with the Nightmare inside, obviously,” Sailor Vulcan replied.  “Send Flash-Critic comm to Fleet Headquarters with what we know and the projected course of both ships; maintain tracking distance on the primary target.  Execute.”

            The cloaked Orion swung about on its wing, and streaked after its prey.

 

 

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